Quiet Lover
by Deathtotheking
Summary: Severus Snape figured out a secret the golden boy kept to himself for years, and Harry soon evens the playing field accidentally. Each learns more about the other, and suddenly- its not longer the greasy git or the golden boy- it's Harry and Severus, a quiet relationship. Smut! HPSS


Harry gasped in pain, Snape having just legilimensed him what felt like twenty times without a break. He was down on one knee, panting, gasping for air that avoided him. Snape seemed to be enjoying every minute of his pain, as he drawled in a bored voice, "Get up Potter, I don't want you waisting my time."

Harry lifted his head an inch to glare at him through sweaty bangs that brushed his glasses, smearing his vision. "I'm- not- waisting- time." he panted angrily, grasping the edge of a desk and pulling his body up. He was sweaty and shaky, and the cold dungeon room made him feel so icy that he figured whenever he got to leave he would have hypothermia. He stood shakily as Snape lifted his wand again. "Wait-!" Harry wasn't prepared this time. His leg buckled once more as Snape went through his memories like useless garbage. He flashed past an image of Ron looking disgusted at a plant in the green house, of Harry peeing in the early hours of the morning, a late evening of card games. Harry strained, desperately trying to keep him away from his other memories.

Despite what Snape said, he actually was keeping out of his head, he allowed him to see everyday stuff, but slowly as Snape remained in his head, he began to finally lose control. The first time it happened, Dudley was bullying him. Snape scoffed about his not getting everything he wanted in life.

He saw his family putting him to work. 'Such a shame the golden boy had to do house work.' Getting punished by Uncle Vernon, 'What did you do that time Potter? How lazy can you be?' Voldemort and Tom Riddle next to Ginny, 'Are you even trying Potter?'

Harry stood unevenly once more, and lifted his eyes to Snape. He didn't have time to prepare or to breathe before he was in his head. It was late at night in his Uncle's house, Harry desperately tried to change what he was thinking of to no avail. He was laying in his bed, it was dark. The door creaked open. He began to yell at Snape to stop, but weather he could hear or not he didn't know. Uncle verso came in the room in only a bathrobe. The memory Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes. The real Harry shouted louder. Suddenly his mouth was full of cock, and his memory self scrambled, desperate to get away.

The memory jumped a few minutes, and for a moment it was just quiet and dark, his face pressed into a pillow. His past and present self screamed bloody murder and a sharp, sudden and terrible pain came from his backside.

Snape didn't pull for his memory fast enough. He saw him desperately scramble, and be restrained but Vernon, screaming into the pillow as his are was pounded, and he left him, shaking and bleeding on his bed. He was sobbing and pale.

Harry was back in the dungeon, his scream died in his throat as he stared horrified at his Professor, the only living being that knew of his deepest secret. "ahh.. AHH!" he yelled. Snape's face was blank and Harry jerked his body, flinging himself to the door. It shut suddenly, and locked. Harry banged on it with his fists. Suddenly he couldn't think, he was scared and trapped and mortified. He banged on the door for a solid two minutes, before his slid to sit, knees pulled close to his chest, arms wrapped around them and head ducked into his arms. He swallowed hard trying not to think.

It was a few minuted before he heard a soft clink. He peered over his arm to meet Snape's gaze. He had set a cup of tea at his feet, and looked at him- green eyes wary of the black that still held no emotion. He looked like he wanted to say something, thought better of it, but still needed to make his voice heard.

"Sorry Harry." It was the first time his Professor had ever said his name. He swallowed thickly and gave a weak half nod as he buried his head back into his arms. Snape walked away and sat at his desk, and he listened to him pull out papers and the soft scratching as he began to write and edit student papers. Slowly Harry dropped his arms. He lifted the plain Jane cream colored mug and sipped the hot, sweet tea. It was very floral and fruity- easier to drink than the breakfast black tea. He drank it slowly, his back pressing against the door, finally more calm than he had been. He supposed that's why Professor Snape had locked the door- to keep him from running screaming through the hallways of Hogwarts.

He looked at his Professor, showering over papers, one eyebrow raised. It was very quiet in the room, neither wanting to touch the subject of what had just happened. He swallowed a little stiffly, and stood, placing the empty mug on a table. He grabbed his Transfiguration textbook from his bag, walked over to Snape's desk and sat down next to it, leaning against its side, and reading through the homework. Neither spoke, and Harry assumed his Professor was waiting on him.

Harry was quiet for the next half hour as he reviewed old and read new information. At the end of his reading he stared at the shelves in front of his face. "Professor." His voice was soft.

"Yes?"

"You won't tell anyone right?" A moment of silence followed.

"If that's what you wish." Harry leaned forward and peered up at him from the floor. Their eyes met for a minute and Harry nodded. Snape nodded once and waved his hand towards the door.

"I expect you here on Thursday for your next ligitimens lesson at the regular time." He advised him, as Harry grabbed his things. Harry looked back and nodded at him, leaving the room, shutting the door softly.


End file.
